


Masks and Capes

by purplehedgehogskies



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Deal With It, First smooches, Fluff and Angst, I had to do the thing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post S4, Season 4 Spoilers, i guess?, kind of rushed declarations of love but whatever, these boys have a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 23:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12398298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplehedgehogskies/pseuds/purplehedgehogskies
Summary: "Hey!”Keith jumped, letting go of Red’s face and stumbling backwards. He whirled on the intruder, as if he didn’t already know who had walked in by the welcoming rumble of Red’s mechanics. As if he didn’t already know by the sound of his voice. 
He watched the changing of Lance's mask, the paladin superhero falling away as he shucked off his jacket and held it, hanging limply at his side. This was the mask Lance wore when Keith let him down, and it was like a knife to the gut.“Oh, it’s you,” Lance said coldly. “Didn’t recognize you.”





	Masks and Capes

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how I feel about this. There are literally so many fics like this floating around in the aftermath of Season 4 but like, this idea was in me and and I wanted to write it, so I had to post it when it was done!  
> Keith and Lance are sad boys and I wanted them to cry together so...here ya go.

As soon as he stepped foot in the Castle of Lions, Keith split from the Blades and their watchful eyes behind glowing masks. He took all the right turns down all the hallways that he knew would be deserted and took special care to avoid parts of the castle where he might run into the paladins. Seeing them again before the conference, before he was ready, would be too hard.

He’d almost forgone the meeting, but Kolivan had made him come. The diplomatic and strategic factors riding on this conference with Lotor were of great importance, probably, though no one really knew what it was the Galra princeling had to say. Additionally, Kolivan was upset with him after what had almost happened with the shield.

_“The Blade of Marmora understands the value of sacrifice,”_ he’d said. _“However, Voltron does not see the matter as we do, and your death would create tension between forces whose alliance is vital. Time and time again, Keith, you fail to see what is important.”_

Keith was lucky enough that they let him have time to himself before the conference began, rather than keeping him close so he didn’t pose a risk to the summit before it even began. The relief of it was minor, compared to the dread that his superiors in the Blade would soon come to the decision that he was a liability. Then where would he belong?

The fastest way to the hangars had always been through the command center, but Coran would be there, monitoring ship vitals and keeping an eye on the radar screens. The team couldn’t possibly trust that Lotor wouldn’t be followed to the castle ship; whether the Galra came to assist him or arrest him, someone would have to be there to see them coming. So, Keith took the back way, taking stairs instead of elevators and walking down hallways that were usually kept dark to reserve power. The motion sensors turned the lights on one by one as he advanced.

He arrived at Red’s hangar with plenty of time to spare. The door opened for him with the gentle whooshing sound he knew well, soft compared to the loud whir and grind of the door to his quarters with the Blades. Keith knew it was because their doors were especially fortified, with notches and specialized locks to make them harder to pry open, but the opening and closing of the doors along the hall as operatives came and went from missions all night was not a comfort. It was another reminder that he wasn’t in the castle that had started to feel like home; a reminder that the routine of picking up and moving had never really ended, that he was always going to have to leave. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stay, but always that they wanted him to go, or that they inevitably would.

He told himself it hurt less when he left on his own. He told himself it was better if he didn’t have time to let them down enough, to disappoint them enough that he was sent away.

The hanger was vast, vibrating with Red’s energy—Keith could still feel her, even after piloting Black, even after leaving Voltron altogether. Part of him desperately hoped it lasted, that she would remember him and love him just as much even long after he’d left her. He still felt bad about it; he knew how it felt to be left.

She let out a purr as he stepped out of the shadows, her eyes glowing in response to him, following him as he made his way to her. She lowered her head to him—not opening up, knowing that’s not what he was here for—and purred deeply again.

“Hey, girl,” he said, reaching out to feel the cool metal of her muzzle. “I missed you.”

He could feel that she had missed him too. There was something else there, some replay of emotion that wasn’t her—he had felt it before, that archive of experience that she’d built up from her time with Alfor, learning his feelings and echoing them. He’d told Allura bout the echoes when he realized what they were, and she’d cried for what seemed like hours before asking him to tell her more.

Red’s nose nudged gently at Keith’s body. He laughed weakly, spreading his arms to sprawl across her face. He’d done this before, late at night when he wandered the castle alone and found himself at her side, especially after he was no longer her pilot. She still let him past her shield because she knew he wasn’t going to try to fly her, he just missed her.

“Hey!”

Keith jumped, letting go of Red’s face and stumbling backwards. He whirled on the intruder, as if he didn’t already know who had walked in by the welcoming rumble of Red’s mechanics. As if he didn’t already know by the sound of his voice.

Lance wasn’t in his armor, like Keith had last seen him. He was in his shirt and jeans, his jacket tied around his shoulders like a cape. This was a Lance thing—perhaps it was the high of hard-won victory, or just to make everyone laugh, but sometimes after a battle he donned this cape and chased the others around making whooshing sounds, pretending to be a superhero. Once or twice he’d “caught” Keith, swooping up from behind and squeezing Keith tightly, saying something like _I’ve saved the citizens from this terrible mullet once again!_

Keith had tried and failed to act annoyed. Lance rarely annoyed him anymore—he made him laugh, usually, and sometimes made him hurt. Like now, as he watched the changing of the masks, the paladin superhero falling away as he shucked off his jacket and held it, hanging limply at his side. He put on a new mask, the one that almost seemed like anger except that it quivered every once in a while, the one Lance had started wearing more and more since Keith had started working with the Blade. Especially when Keith missed things he’d said he’d be there for, or when he didn’t show up to dinner, or when he left the lounge early to train alone instead of staying to spend time with Lance and the others.

It was how Lance looked when Keith let him down, and it was like a knife to the gut.

“Oh, it’s you,” Lance said coldly. “Didn’t recognize you.”

“Yeah, I just…uh, I wanted to see Red.”

“Good,” he said. “She misses you.”

“I miss her, too.”

Lance closed his eyes and clenched his jaw for a second, holding something in until it passed. When he opened them up again, he shrugged and started forward, moving past Keith. Red slowly opened her mouth, admitting Lance, and Keith watched as he disappeared up the ramp.

Keith stood there, frozen, as if Blue had turned her icy breath on him. But really, it had been Lance who paralyzed him, Lance who had casually cut into him and left him there to process the pain. He’d known it would hurt to be here today, to see what he’d left behind, but he hadn’t expected to run into Lance. Not here. Not alone.

If he just left before Lance came back out, he wouldn’t see him again until the conference. There, he wouldn’t really have to look at him, wouldn’t have to acknowledge that the bond he’d managed to form with Lance, all the progress they’d made, was for naught. It was over now, and even though Lance didn’t hate him, he didn’t really like him much anymore.

If he stayed, he’d get to see Lance again. In person instead of in the background on screen, or from far away while he did coalition work, or doing acrobatics during the recruitment show broadcasts. Lance, who was still a bright and steady light even though he didn’t cast his warmth on Keith anymore.

Keith regained the ability to move and turned away, but he was too late. As he started to leave, Lance’s footsteps descended down the ramp behind him, Red closing up her mouth when he reached the hangar floor. Keith spared a glance over his shoulder to see that Lance had come back to retrieve his helmet, which Keith knew he frequently left inside whichever lion he was piloting. He’d put his jacket back on and drawn up the hood, which did nothing to disguise his grimace as he stood beside Red’s nose while she lamented that Keith was leaving. It was all so bitter and hard to swallow, but he’d made his choice to leave already. It wasn’t like staying would make it any easier, anyway.

He turned and took another step, only to be met with a frustrated shriek. He looked again at Lance, just in time to watch as he hurled his helmet at Keith, and just in time to dodge the blow.

“What are you doing?” Keith demanded.

“You, Keith, are a _rotten jerk_ ,” he spat. “You don’t just get to come in here to see Red and leave when she barely got to say hello. You spineless brat, showing up because you have to but then just, not even bothering to catch up. She’s missed you a lot. She’s been worried about you. And this is what she gets?”

Keith felt stunned. “I…uh…that’s not really how our bond works? She kind of just…knows.”

“Pfft,” Lance huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not everyone just _knows_.”

“Right. Well, uh, I was going to spend more time here, but...I didn’t want to impose,” he said, gesturing at Red and Lance together. “She’s not my lion anymore.”

“So you scram the second I show up,” said Lance sourly. “That’s rich. I thought…I thought…” His mask was not made for this, and Keith could see it cracking. “Whatever, you stay. I’ll go.”

Lance started for the door, avoiding Keith’s eyes.

“No.”

“Huh?” Lance turned, and Keith could see the shine of his eyes. Could see where the hard line of his mouth had become a wobbling pout, and the flush of anger had dissipated to give way to an expression that shattered Keith on sight.

“Lance,” he choked on the name. “Lance, no.”

“No, _what_?” exasperation bled into Lance’s voice as he bent to pick up his helmet. “I don’t think I can do this right now, Keith, I just…I have to…”

“I miss you,” he blurted. “Not just Red. I miss _you_ , too.”

The mask that had been barely holding itself together fell to pieces, finally, and Lance dropped the helmet again to muffle a sob with his hands. Keith lifted his hand, curling his fingers in Lance’s sleeve and tugging gently—the action was like a catalyst, spurring everything into motion. Lance stumbled to him, crashing into him, his arms around Keith and scrabbling for purchase but finding no excess fabric to grab onto. Keith’s arms circled Lance’s waist as he pressed his face into the fabric of Lance’s jacket, holding on through trembling and sniffling and strangling sobs that had Keith wondering if anything could be more heartbreaking than this.

Yes, he decided, it could. He was here, and Lance was here, and they were safe. If things had gone differently the day before, they wouldn’t be here and there wouldn’t be this. Keith didn’t want to imagine it.

Gradually, Lance’s cries quieted and he stopped shaking as hard. Gradually, Keith figured out how to breathe again, though hot tears still rolled down his face and onto Lance’s shoulder. Still, he didn’t pull away—this had been what he was afraid of, why he’d tried to avoid the team, why he’d promised himself he wouldn’t cry, but now that he’d broken all of his rules, Keith didn’t want to let go.

Softly, Lance said, “I’m _so mad_ at you.”

“Why’s that?”

“You _left_ to go slice things and do dangerous stuff in your stupid,” Lance broke off, drawing back to look Keith in the eye, scowling again even though he was still partially draped around Keith, “Your stupid glowy suit. The only way I knew…the only way _we_ knew if you were okay was through official calls from the Blade. And then…Matt told us…”

Lance’s face contorted again. His voice was so heavy with pain, so broken when he said, “Matt told us what you were going to do, Keith. He told us you almost _died_.”

Keith opened his mouth to defend his near-sacrifice, to tell Lance it had been for him and for the team and for the galaxy in the planet’s blast zone. But Lance’s wide, bloodshot eyes and the crease in his brow told Keith that he didn’t want to hear it, that he already knew, that he didn’t care about the reason and was stuck on the idea of Keith dying. He’d never been so stupid as to think Lance wouldn’t care if he died, but it still felt strange to see it on Lance’s face, the absolute horror he seemed to feel now that it had been an almost-truth.

“I’m sorry,” he offered, instead. “I’m sorry for hurting you. All of you.”

Lance shook his head. “Nope, I’m still mad. I might just try to throw my helmet at you again.”

Keith laughed, even though he was still crying. Lance shook his head and tried not to, but before long he was laughing too. He gathered Keith up in his arms again, holding him close as he shook with laughter instead of sobs, and for a second everything was right with the world. Keith wanted to never be anywhere else, wanted to belong right there in Lance’s embrace.

“Keith, we’re friends, right?” he asked, jolting Keith out of the bliss of the moment. He was still hanging on, his chin digging almost uncomfortably into Keith’s shoulder. “I mean, I think we are, but…”

“Yeah. Yeah. We’re friends. You’re my friend,” he said. “I love you, dude.”

“I love you too, man.” Lance squeezed him one more time before letting go, stretching his arms up into the air before letting them fall to his sides again. “Sometimes I worry, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Lance nodded and bent down to pick his helmet up again, wiping at the residue of tears on his face. Keith felt at once both giddy and like some part of him was falling out of his body and onto the floor, and Lance was going to take it with him. He was going to watch Lance walk out of the hanger, and maybe follow him, but after the conference he would go back to the Blade and wait for them to decide they didn’t want him anymore, and he didn’t know what would happen then. This was a rapidly closing window—he might never have this opportunity again.

“Lance,” he said. “What if…uh…”

Lance rose again to his full height. “What if what?”

 “What if I more than friended you? Ah, quiznak, I mean…uh…”

“Dude, what’s happening right now?” Lance asked. Keith didn’t really have words. Words were harder than actions.

Lance let out a surprised squawk when Keith grabbed him by the shoulders and planted his mouth on Lance’s. It was soft, just like Keith had always imagined. When Lance sighed into it, holding his free hand up to Keith’s face while _he kissed back_ , it was even more like a fantasy come to life. They parted with a smack and a little sound of dismay from Lance, who held onto Keith even as he drew away. Keith leaned into his palm.

“Oh, so that’s what you mean,” Lance said, his voice taking on a light, airy tone. “You have no idea, Keith, no idea how much that very idea has crossed through my mind.”

“I think I have an idea,” he said, smiling. Lance stroked his cheek with his thumb, and even that small touch felt extraordinary. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but then I thought…I would maybe never have another chance.”

“What—”

“Don’t ask me what I mean,” Keith shook his head. “I just. I felt like this moment was ending and I didn’t want it to, like maybe you’d walk away and never think of it again. Nothing is this right anymore, and if things keep being wrong…I don’t know, Lance. I just felt like I couldn’t say _I love you_ and then not really tell you _how_.”

“Oh. Well. I love you, too. And this is how,” Lance said, and he kissed Keith again, a soft brush of his lips. “Isn’t it crazy how things happen so fast?”

Keith nodded. “I still wish it had been faster. It’s cruel that our first kiss is pretty much a goodbye kiss.”

“It’s not a goodbye,” said Lance. “It’s a beginning. It’s an  _I love you_. Oh, Keith, now I’m going to say those words to you until you’re sick of them. I’m going to yell them at you during official conference calls with the Blades so you get all embarrassed, and I’m going to send you little hearts all the time.”

“I’m not going to get sick of them,” said Keith. He clasped Lance’s hand in his and gestured towards the door. “Shall we?”

“Hmm? There’s still like, a couple of vargas before everyone will be here for the thing.”

“Yeah, and I intend to spend it all with you.”

Lance beamed, leaning in for another kiss. _Hello_ , it said. _I love you. Stay a while._

Keith wanted to stay forever.


End file.
